'Maybe there's another exit.' Jess's voice shook.

'Don't count on it. And even if there is, those bombs will go off before we find it.'

'We've got to try.'

Craig studied her with resolve. 'Yes.'

They rushed back along the tunnel, reaching the cavern. Another section of roof crashed. The force of its impact jolted them and made the flames from the oil waver.

'Over there. In back,' Tess said. 'Another tunnel.'

'Any minute now, those bombs will-'

'The flames, Craig! Look at the flames!'

'What about them?'

They're still wavering! They're leaning toward that tunnel. When we first entered the chapel, I noticed the torches waver, but I thought that was just because our movement created a breeze. Air's flowing into that tunnel. It has to be going outside.'

Craig nodded. 'But what if the hole's too small for us to-?'

'It's our only choice!' The roof groaned again. 'Let's go! Before-!'

They scrambled toward the tunnel at the rear. The moment they entered, another huge slab of rock fell, barely missing them.

They stumbled forward, the light diminishing.

'If this tunnel branches out into other tunnels, we don't have a chance.' Craig breathed hard.

The light from the flames in the cavern became so weak that Tess had to grope along the walls. 'Do you feel a breeze? Does it seem to be getting stronger?'

'Yes! But what am I hearing?'

Ahead, something roared, constant, louder as they approached.

The tunnel curved and slanted down, blocking the light from the flames. In total darkness, they kept groping along the walls. The roar gained volume, so loud that Tess could hardly hear what Craig shouted.

'What?' she yelled.

'I think it's a-!'

The blackness was absolute. She couldn't see him, grabbed for his hand, took another step, and abruptly lurched forward, the shock waves of repeated explosions shoving at her. The ceiling cracked, about to collapse. Propelled, she stepped into nothingness. With air instead of rock beneath her, she plummeted. The ceiling gave way, slamming down behind her. She screamed. Her stomach rose as she dropped. Clutching Craig's hand, she swooped toward the black, louder, closer, continuous roar.

The roar, she discovered, was an underground stream. Its icy current stunned her, drowning her scream. She went under, panicked, powerless, unable to see or breathe. Dimly, she understood that concussions behind her were slabs of rock hitting the stream, but the current's force sucked her away before the rocks could crush her. She tumbled beneath,the rushing surface, straining to raise her head, hoping frantically that the breeze she and Craig had followed meant that the stream had an open space above it. But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn't reach the surface.

The stream gained speed. She banged against a polished curve in the channel, twisted, slammed against another curve, lost her grip on Craig's hand, struggled again to reach the surface, and suddenly felt herself dropping. Oh, Jesus, she prayed, unable to hold her breath, about to inhale reflexively.

The stream kept falling. At once, she burst through an opening, was hurled from the water, and flipped through air. The pressure of dropping made her chest heave. She gasped uncontrollably. Her lungs expanded, air rushing down her throat. The next thing, she struck a pool, propelled beneath it by the thunderous thrust of a waterfall. When she clawed to the surface, her arms thrashing weakly, she breathed in desperation and gradually realized that there were stars above her, that she was outside in the sweet spacious night, that she was close to the rim of the pool.

A moment later, in a frenzy, she pivoted to search for Craig. His body floated toward her. Urgent, she swam and grabbed him. He raised his head, coughing, spitting out water, while she tugged him toward the rim of the pool. They lay on a grassy bank.

But Craig kept coughing, choking. He vomited water. In a rush, she turned him onto his chest, moved his head sideways, checked to make sure that there were no obstructions in his mouth, and pressed her hands on his back, squeezing his lungs, sensing water escape from his mouth. He coughed repeatedly. Then gradually his spasms diminished.

He began to breathe freely.

Only then did she slump back, exhausted. The air smelled fresh and clear. The moon and the stars were glorious. Despite the thunder of the waterfall, she heard a nearby stream flowing from the pool, trickling over rocks toward the valley.

Craig moved his head to study her. He coughed again and clutched her hand. 'Thanks.' He managed to smile.

'Hey, it took two of us to get out of there.' She returned his smile, her heart swelling with relief that he was alive.

Then she, too, coughed up water. She shivered so bad that her teeth chattered.

Side by side, they held each other, trying to regain their strength.

Five minutes later, Craig roused himself. That water was so icy…' He shook uncontrollably.

'Hyperthermia?' Tess frowned.

hat's right.' He continued shaking, worried. 'In these wet clothes, even on a warm night in June, we're both so chilled we could die from exposure. We have to get warm and dry. Soon.'

Realizing the danger, Tess hurriedly glanced behind her toward the valley. No, she thought, we can't have survived what we did, only to freeze to death. At once she mentally thanked God. 'Everything's fine. No problem.'

'What? The nearest village is probably miles away. We'd get delirious, fall asleep, and die before we managed to walk there, assuming we could even find it.'

'I still say no problem.' Painfully cold, Tess trembled from her head to her feet.

'You think all we have to do is rub two sticks together and build a fire?'

'No. Someone already did that for us. In fact a lot of people.'

Puzzled, Craig turned to follow her gaze and let out his breath in wonder. Below them, across the fields in the valley, dozens and dozens of bonfires glittered in the darkness. Their glow was splendorous.

'The feast of Saint John. I'd forgotten,' Craig said.

'Like tiny pieces of the sun. For once, flames are going to help us.' Tess managed to stand, trembled, and reached for his hand. 'Bright flames. Not dark. Come on, babe.'

It took all her strength to raise him. Arm in arm, huddled against each other, clinging for warmth, they staggered down a grassy slope toward the fires.

'At least the stream washed the blood from our clothes,' Tess said. 'I guess in a way… It was like a baptism. Except that the second baptism canceled the first. The second was truly purifying.'

'The thing is, our problems aren't over,' Craig said.

'I know. Father Baldwin. What made you realize that he didn't want us to escape?'

'Just a hunch, but in my line of work, you learn the hard way to respond to hunches. I figured we ought to wait and see how much he wanted to find us in the rubble. Obviously he thinks we're a threat because of the secrets he told us.'

'Right now, I don't care about his damned Inquisition. All I want to do is keep holding you. It feels so wonderful to be alive.'

'Good fighting evil.' Craig shivered. 'In this case, it's hard to tell the difference between them. Both are evil. I'm sure of this – as soon as the Inquisitors learn we're still alive, they'll come after us.'

Tess hesitated. 'Maybe not.'

'You've got a plan?'

'Sort of. I'm still thinking it through. But if they do decide to come after us, I'm ready to fight them. As far as I'm concerned, they committed an unforgivable sin.'

'Because they turned against us?'

'No. Because they blew up the paintings. I'll always remember them – the deer, the bison, the horses, the ibex, the bulls. So awesome, so magnificent, so irreplaceable.'